Pane

I said goodbye to my first apartment this weekend. The first place that I could call my own. Not shared with a roommate, or five of them. Not squeezed into a tiny room in someone else's house. Not still at home, but let's face it...I'd give anything to live there again.

Although it was somewhat uncerimonious (I'd been essentially in the process of moving out for about two months now), with each box, bag or crate that went out the door and into the truck, I felt a little tug on the inside.

I kind of wandered in and out of each room, packing and organizing but paying close attention to every detail of the empty space.

Every little corner has some significance.
Every patch of carpet holds tons of memories.
Every piece of furniture has a story.

Time for new signficance, new memories and new stories.

As I waited for H to arrive in the morning with the rental truck, I started taking down my curtains from my living room windows. He pulled up in the truck and got out, approaching my apartment. I was instantly taken back six or seven months back when we were going on our first official date. As I sat there waiting for him, I had peeked out the same window, and watched him walk up the path.

So, here we are.

Goodbye 14-21 Valley Road!